Where Loyalties Lie
by FalconWind
Summary: When Order 66 is issued, a clone commander is faced with a tough decision at a tough time. He must choose where his loyalties lie. Orig. char. ROTS.


Where Loyalties Lie

by FalconWind

(c) Copyright FalconWind 2005. All rights reserved.

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated materials and property of George Lucas. I am not making any money from this.

A/N: This takes place during ROTS, and could be considered AU, but can fit within the canon universe. This connects to another SW fic that I'm writing.

I've always liked stormtroopers (and clone troopers), and it just tore my heart out that they'd turn on the Jedi so easily. So this helps me feel that they're not all heartless, mindless killers. Call me a faceless-soldier-rights-activist. :P

The fighting was intense, but Master Cariss Arkland stood in front of the clonetroopers, defecting bolts as they fired from behind him. They made there was slowly, but surely to the men pinned down behind their burning gunship.

The droids fell one by one, their blasters unable to penetrate the Jedi's cover.

Finally, they reached the injured soldiers, many were grievously wounded, but most were alive.

"General," the squad commander said, clutching his bloody leg, "you shouldn't have risked your safety for us."

"Don't be ridiculous, Tal, you and your men risk your lives constantly," Arkland said, helping the man to his feet.

"It's not the same, sir," he said his voice hoarse, even though the helmet. "We're replaceable, you're not."

"If you see another Sergeant Tal walking around, you let me know. Until then, you're irreplaceable. Do you understand?" Arkland said, holding the tired clonetrooper by the shoulders.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir... for saving us."

"You'd do the same, I'm sure," Arkland said with a smile. The roar of a gunship overhead made them look up. "Let's get you some medical attention."

Arkland helped him to the gunship.

"Cariss," a modulated voice said, from behind, it was Commander Parks, "the area is secure."

Arkland nodded. "Good. If we mount a counter-offensive then we should be able to end this battle now."

The clone commander nodded. "I agree, sir. I have two battalions already waiting."

Arkland grinned. "I didn't know you could read my mind, Parks."

"Only in battle, sir," the commander joked.

The Jedi straightened his robes. "I wonder if- WATCH OUT!" He shoved Parks away, toppling him to the ground, as a blaster bolt rang out.

The soldiers instantly found the half-slagged droid and reduced it to smouldering debris.

Parks looked at the burning droid. "Well, that was close," he said, waiting for Arkland's witty reply. It didn't come. "Cariss?"

The Jedi Master turned to his clone commander, clutching his chest; he stumbled and fell to his knees.

"Carris! Sir!" Parks scrambled over to the stricken Jedi, who fell over into his arms.

"Ow..." Arkland said weakly, as the other clonetroopers around him rushed to help their wounded General.

Parks tore off his helmet. "Cariss, move your hand! Let me see."

He removed his hand, revealing a smouldering hole in the right side of his chest.

Parks tore open the Jedi's robes, and saw it was bleeding, the wound not cauterized. The bolt must have been very weak, but strong enough to burn through flesh and cloth. "Medic! Get a medic!"

The ring of soldier parted to allow a trooper with a medical case to get to him.

"I told you to wear body armour," Parks said, keeping pressure on the wound.

"You should've told me more often," Arkland joked, wincing. He coughed and a thin drop of blood escaped his mouth. "Oh, that's not good..."

You'll be fine, Cariss. We'll fix you up, just like you fixed us up," Parks assured him, looking sternly at the medic, who sprayed a liquid into the wound.

Arkland gritted his teeth as the spray stinged.

The medic looked at the lifesign monitor and quickly administered a drug to his neck.

"Why did you do that?"

Arkland was having trouble keeping his eyes open. "Do what?" he asked weakly.

"Push me out of the way... why?"

"I wanted to save you," Arkland explained, nonchalantly.

"You should've let me get hit," Parks insisted.

"What kind of General would I be if I had?" Arkland asked him, coughing again. "A man who ducks for cover while his troops get killed... that's not who I am."

Parks just shook his head. "It was foolish... I should be the one with a hole in his chest, not you."

Arkland smiled weakly. "I hadn't really planned on getting shot myself."

Parks, despite himself, cracked a grin.

The Jedi became serious suddenly. "Don't blame yourself... It was my decision. I chose to risk my life for yours. And I don't regret it." He suddenly tenses up, grabbing the clone commander's arm. Then goes limp.

"Sir! Carris!" Parks said, shaking him. "Fight it damn you!" The Jedi didn't respond. He looked at the medic, his eyes wide. "Is he...?"

"No," the medic said, "he's just unconscious. I stopped the bleeding and he's stable, but we need to get him back to the field hospital."

Relief washed over the soldiers gathered around.

"He can have my spot," Sergeant Tal said, limping over.

"Alright, let's get a stretcher over here," Parks ordered, slipping his helmet back on. Suddenly, his holographic comlink beeped.

He opened the small device, and the form of Supreme Chancellor appeared. "Commander 1033."

"Uh, yes, sir."

"The time has come. Execute Order 66."

Parks remained silent for a second. "It will be done, my Lord." The hologram fades, and he closes the device slowly.

The soldiers all around him saw the hologram, and could guess what was happening. They stared at them both, the wounded Jedi who had thrown himself into harms way to save them all.

Order 66, the last resort contingency branding all Jedi traitors and calling for their immediate execution. The thought recited itself clearly in his mind, and yet he could only look at the Jedi. He had only moments before saved his life, nearly costing his own.

He knew what he had to do. He knew what every ounce of his training and conditioning told him to do. The supreme chancellor had just given them a direct order; they had to obey.

Parks moved his hand to his sidearm, but it only shook. He looked at it, trying to force it to grasp the blaster, but it only shook harder.

He balled his hand into a fist. Slamming it against the ground.

His brain whirled around like a tornado. His training and conditioning told him to obey, but the gut feelings, the instinctsthat had served him time and again pulled him in another direction.

Arkland had chosen to save Parks. He didn't have to, but he had chosen, of his own free will. He had almost made the ultimate sacrifice for him. The greatest honour was dying for your commander... and yet the Jedi had been willing to do the same for his subordinate. It didn't make sense, and yet it made Parks immensely proud to be his second-in-command to be his friend. Yes, Parks realized, a friend.

And now, he was supposed to kill his friend. It wasn't right. He gritted his teeth, ploughing away the training in his mind.

"Get the stretcher over here, now," Parks said, his voice cracking.

No one moved. "I said get a stretcher! Now!" he yelled, jolting them into activity. They moved slowly, unsure of everything they've ever known, even the act of walking seemed perilous.

"Sir," one of them said uneasily. "This is treason."

"Master Arkland is not a traitor," Parks said, sternly.

The trooper nodded. "I know, but-"

"Are you going to shoot him?" Parks asked, pointing at the man, unconscious and defenceless. "Are you going to shoot me?"

He grabbed the clonetrooper's rifle, flicked off the safety and shoved it back into his hands. The other soldiers stopped to look at the standoff.

Parks stood there, waiting. "Make your decision, soldier. You kill someone is combat, that's war. You kill us right now in cold-blood, that's murder. You kill me, you kill Master Arkland, that's murder AND betrayal! So what are you? A soldier, or a murderer?"

"The supreme chancellor gave us a direct order! He's a traitor!" the trooper raised his rifle.

"The supreme chancellor is wrong!" Parks said, stepping closer to the defiant soldier. "But if you're so sure, then you'll pull that trigger."

"Do it! Kill me were I stand. Shoot me for believing that Master Arkland is a loyal servant of the Republic. Kill him, after he just saved your worthless life, at the risk of his own!"

The clonetrooper froze, his finger twitching, his aiming hand shaking.

"Or, you can show me that you aren't just a damn droid. Show Master Arkland your life was worth saving," Parks said, his chestplate touching the muzzle of the rifle.

The moment seemed to drag on for an eternity. Then the rifle fell to the ground. The soldier grasped his helmeted head, crying into it. He had made the hardest decision any clonetrooper could possibly make; the decision to disobey an order.

Parks hugged his comrade, offering his support. "I know it was hard. You did the right thing, Saller," he said. "I'm proud of you. Master Arkland would be proud."

The scene helped make them all feel more at ease with their actions.

"Sir," the medic said, still checking the Jedi's vital signs, "we'd better hurry if we're going to save him."

The clone commander nodded. "Let's go home."

Master Arkland had saved all their lives at least once; there wasn't a soul among them that didn't owe it to him.

Parks didn't know where his decision would take them. They'd probably all be executed; the whole division massacred by their brothers, but hopefully, Arkland would survive. That's all that mattered now.

End?

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Remember to REVIEW! Cheers!


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